Victory's Flight
by Ocean Rift
Summary: Nikki daughter of Nike, goddess of Victory, barely makes it to camp half-blood when the Eos, goddess of dawn, is kidnapped, and the world can no longer turn. And the America's are in perpetual dark. If they can't find Eos and return her to the east coast, everything and everyone will die. Rated T for mild language. YOU ARE MY FAVORITE. YOU.
1. Bricks, Hot Guys, and a Dragon

My feet touched the floor; the sensation on my morning soft feet was like pins. I brushed my black hair back behind my ear, humming to myself, a tune I wasn't sure had come from, but was so familiar I was at ease with it.

I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tee, running my fingers through my hair, tugging out the knots.

Across the room, a girl rolled off her bed onto the threadbare throw rug that was there for all her bed-rolling-off needs. I didn't know what her name was, because I had never made an effort to find out, or even pay attention to her, or anybody else for that matter.

She looked up at me sleepily from the ground, "Now will you tell me your name?" Apparently the neglect on my behalf had extended to the point that I had refused to tell anyone my name.

I glared at her, not speaking. No point in making friends when I'll probably be gone from this orphanage within the next week.

Yes, Saint Mary's Boarding School for Orphaned Children in the grey town of Sidney, Vancouver Island. For those of you who are uneducated in the art of geography, it's in British Columbia, Canada.

She hastily combed her blond hair, "Since it's summer and all, I was wondering if you wanted to go to the beach with me."

I looked at her with my piercing blue eyes, "Why?"

"It's one of the hottest weeks of the year, and the beach has the world's best ice cream parlor, why not go?" She smiled sweetly at me, one of those smiles that make your heart melt, it's a wonder she hasn't been adopted yet. "Please?" she asked, stretching out the word.

"I'm better left alone. Bad stuff happens around me." I wasn't going to go into the details with her, like how I accidently collapsed my twelfth orphanage, or the time I was on a field trip at the skating arena from the Olympics in Vancouver and I had an unfortunate run in with the janitor and several tanks of gas. Who knew that an explosion could have such a cool fireball?

She looked slightly hurt, "Oh, ok, if you change your mind, just say."

I shook my head, "I'm fine." I stepped out the door, and then trotted down the stairs along with a torrent of kids heading down to breakfast.

I stuck close to the wall, even though it smelt terrible, because there is always some clown who thinks it's funny to push someone else over the railing. As we passed the principal's office, I tried to blend into the crowd, but that lady is like a hawk, and she called out my name from inside her office.

I had to push my way through the stream of kids to get my way back to the office door, and I was out of breath by the time I was leaning up against the door frame.

Ms. Spalding sat behind her desk. Legs crossed, arms folded, pen twiddling between her fingers, and flyaway hair curled behind her ears. "Sit." She said firmly, indicating to the wooden chair that sat in front of her desk, opposite her.

I edged my way to the chair, the floorboards creaking beneath my feet.

"Ms. Bilodeau, when you arrived here, I was warned about your behaviour, but I thought I could change it. But for that to happen, I need to know your story, and nobody would tell me anything."

I rolled my eyes, plopping down into the wooden chair. "My father died in a skiing accident a few days before I was born, that's what the people at my..." I ticked off my fingers, mentally counting, "... tenth orphanage told me."

"What about your mother?"

"I was born, quite literally, on the orphanage back step in Québec. The minute the mistress turned away to but me in a blanket my mother disappeared, so she said, leaving a note with only my name on it."

My current mistress leaned back in her chair, "No matter, do you know what I have on my desk?" she asked.

I leaned over to look, "Lots of paper?"

"Yes, that too." Ms. Spalding replied, unimpressed. "I have your report cards, an all of them say you have –problems– with your behaviour." She leafed through the papers, picking my fourth grade sheet, when I was in the Halifax system, I'm not proud of that year. "'Nikki_ has trouble focusing on her work," _she quoted a choice piece; "_She is a distraction to the class and is destructive to her surroundings. Nikki must try harder.'_"

"I'm ADHD, what can I say?" I said, leaning back in the wooden chair.

"Then it says here that you–" she adjusted her thick-rimmed glasses "–set fire to the participant's trophy box of your school. Nikki that is unacceptable."

I shrugged, "They didn't win, did they? Mediocrity isn't an accomplishment, it's a handicap. Besides, the principle had gotten a cool new chair for me, since I visited him every day. We became quite good friends." I speculated.

"And in grade five, when you were in Ontario foster care system, you knocked over the Giant Nickel in Sudbury with a pickup truck?"

I grabbed the sheets, which didn't really matter, me being dyslexic, "What? They downsized it to a pickup? I did it with a transport!" Ms. Spalding wretched the sheet away from me with her overlong nails, "they don't give me enough credit." I muttered.

The mistress stood up, hitting me on the head with her papers. "Nikki, I called you in here because you have a behavioural problem, and we need to fix that before you've lived in or destroyed every orphanage in Canada. You're thirteen now, and you should know better."

"Sure, can I go to breakfast now?"

* * *

I snatched up a bagel from the countertop in the kitchen, and then battled my way through the ocean of kids to the back door. It was a relatively small street that led from the door, but it was enough to suit my purposes. The farther from this school the better.

I had nothing on me but five bucks, and a backpack with an old cherry red jacket and brick in it. You never know when you might need a nice, bone-crushing brick.

I walked down the street with a strange sense of calm, but that usually means something extremely unfortunate will happen to me.

And right I was, because what should happen, but an enormous, fuzzy, (For lack of a better word) _thing _smelling of BO crashed down the alleyway, straight for me.

I quickly glanced up at the threat, and then recoiled in disgust as I was face with an enormous lion, only it had a goat head sticking out its back and a menacing tail that ended in the head of a snake. Any idiot would know what it was, the Chimera.

So I did the only sensible thing at the time. I threw my brick at his ugly face.

I mentally slapped my face as the Chimera charged; apparently he didn't like having a brick thrown at his face. The creature let out a deafening roar, shaking his grungy mane, the snake slapping against the looming alley walls, hissing.

I leaped back as the snake tail lashed out, missing me by an inch, the terrible green eyes spearing into mine as it whipped past. I hopped back again as the lion head lunged forward, the teeth flashing, and caught my backpack, tugging at the straps. I could feel the hot breath singeing my skin, making my hair stand on end.

Suddenly the goat and I were face to face, its horns tangling in my hair. I bared my teeth at it, giving a slight growl. It responded by roaring at me, but the terrifying bellow was made rather comical with the baying of the goat.

I grabbed the goat's horns, then ripped them downwards so the top of the head was exposed, even better, the small nub on the back of its crown that connected its nervous system to the brain. Even though it was only one of two heads, I wasn't going to take my chances with the lion head.

Out of the corner of my eye I glimpsed a flash of gold and moved out of the way just before the gold flash sliced through the goat's neck. I was tossed to the ground as the Chimera shook, roaring furiously as the stump wobbled and quivered.

Another golden burst and the lion head fell to the ground also, shivering in its own pool of blood, then, along with the rest of the body, drifted into a fine yellow powder. Standing behind the golden flash stood a boy, not much older than me, he was a lean figure, his rust coloured hair shifting in the breeze, and the gold thing, a sword, gleamed in his hands. His torn, bloody orange shirt, along with a string of clay beads a leather cord, looked out of place on the fierce looking boy.

"And stay dead." He spat. The saliva landed in the pool of blood, then sizzled into a reddish mist that floated up with the shining powder, only to be carried away by the wind.

I stood up, dusting the monster-turned-shiny-stuff from my black hair; I faced the boy, "Who are you?" I could barely force the words out of my throat past my tongue, which was thick with fright.

"I'm Alex Heart, son of Hephaestus; I came to pick you up, since all the satyrs were busy." He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, "Sorry we had to meet like this."

"Who names their kid Hephaestus?" I frowned, "Isn't that, like, the fire guy in those old stories?"

Alex ignored my babbling and reached for my shoulder, grasping it firmly, "Hey, we need to get out of here, the Chimera called for some of his buddies; we need to leave, now."

Suddenly it felt like I was being forced through a bottleneck, stretching out like a rubber band. After what seemed like hours, we landed on a grassy hill, next to a tall, slightly imposing pine tree with a huge copper-scaled dragon curled around it. Alex grasped at my shoulders, pulling me from one side of the tree to the other, avoiding the dragon, and then pulled a small, metallic silver sparrow from his pocket.

He whispered to it, and then threw it into the air, I thought it would hit the ground, but it opened tiny silver wings and started beating its way down the hill to a place that looked awfully like a summer camp on steroids.

The dragon lazily turned his great head, a snake head with amber eyes, to me, his nostrils flaring as he breathed in my scent, he then sneezed a great dragon-size sneeze, showering me with snot. "That's Peleus, he guards the Golden Fleece," Alex said offhandedly.

This is getting weirder and weirder. "I don't feel so great." I mumbled as my gut did summersaults, nausea clambering up my throat. I doubled over, throwing up my breakfast over the roots of the pine. The dragon shuffled away, probably offended that I was puking my stomach contents all over his tree.

Alex nimbly jumped over the roots back to me, then picked me up as easily as I could a baby. "I'm so sorry; I should have warned you were where about to apparate, if it makes you feel any better, I barfed my first time too. Hang on a sec." He said as he hit the sides of his shoes together. Disks coming from the bottoms of the converse shoes splayed out and formed together to create a dished metal board. Before I knew it we were boarding down the grassy hill towards a big blue house.

Then the world tilted at a funny angle, turning in a kaleidoscope of colour, then twisted into black.


	2. Let's All Kill Nikki

I drifted in and out of consciousness; time was of no object, just me in a fuzzy pool of swirling fog. When I did manage to open my eyes, Alex would jump up and run somewhere, returning almost immediately, accompanied by a dumpy, cherubic looking man in a tiger pattern Hawaiian shirt who was sipping at a diet coke.

I finally managed to stay conscious for more than a minute, and I kind of felt better, so I sat up in the soft bed I was in.

Alex re-entered the room with the man, then he took a seat, allowing the podgy man to come to my bedside. "You Nikki?" he asked, and then burped loudly, cringing as the diet coke fizzed up his nose.

I shrank back, "Uh, yah, and you are-?" I drowsily tilted my hand towards him.

"Lord Dionysus, Creator of Wine and god on Olympus, but most of you miserable teens call me Mr. D, your camp director." He said, "Who's your parent?"

I was about to say "_You_, a god? You can't be serious.", but Alex spoke first, "Mr. D, sir, she was the orphanage pickup."

"Why don't the parents live longer, and make the rest of our jobs easier?" he then turned to Alex. "Fill her in before the bonfire, then get her out of those repulsive clothes, I hate you smelly mortal teenagers."

"Yes, sir." Alex said from the corner, observing as Mr. D trudged out of the room.

I took this chance to interrogate Alex about the event from the alleyway, "What's going on? What was the Chimera doing in Sidney? Who are you? Why did that fat guy call me a mortal?"

Alex motioned for me to calm down. "This might be hard for you to believe, but you're not normal."

"Tell me something I don't know."

Alex sighed, "What I mean is that nobody at Camp Half-blood –here, if you're wondering- is normal." He made obscure gestures with his hands, like he was confusing himself just by talking, "The Greek gods, they're real, and sometimes they have children with mortals." He looked at me expectantly like his crazy conclusion made sense.

I shuffled forward on the mattress, "You mind explaining further? Gods, aren't they just myths?"

"No!" Alex cowered as the sky overhead boomed with thunder. "They don't like being called myths, it's highly offensive to them. They've been around for pretty much since the beginning of time, and their children, us, are powerful, so we need to come here to stay alive and to train. The mortals, they know nothing, everything they see is obscured by the mist, a magical substance that keeps them from seeing the truth about us."

"If I'm the child of a god, or goddess, who?"

"That is yet to be determined," he eyed me suspiciously, "you're taking this all very calmly."

I shrugged, pulling my bag, somehow still with me, closer to me, through the cheap felt I could feel the jacket inside. "Somehow I don't think anything could get worse for me."

* * *

The bonfire wasn't nearly as scary as I thought it would, if you count a sing along about going to war or people roasting marshmallows on spears over a fire that followed the mood of the crowd 'scary'.

But I sat in the shadows, wishing with all my might that I could be back in my denim jacket and my other second hand getup instead of the fluorescent orange t-shirt and baby blue jeans. Several campers were staring at me, wondering how I managed to stay in the normal world until the age of thirteen without getting killed, but not one of them even came to ask, or even talk to me.

I glanced over my shoulder at a boy, no older than seven, staring at me, I smiled at him, but he just scampered off towards a group of kids singing and goofing off around under a silver banner. When I moved my head back to its normal position, I almost fell backwards off the bleacher when I was faced with a girl.

"Hi!" She twittered, her absent voice contrasted from her unruly red hair that framed her fine-lined face that was covered with prominent freckles, her smile reached ear to ear, showcasing a mouthful of pearly whites. "I'm Macy! I'm with the Demeter crew." She held out her hand, I gingerly stretched my hand out to meet hers, but she almost yanked my arm out of my socket shaking my hand enthusiastically.

"Um, Nikki, and unknown." I managed.

Macy sat beside me, smiling all the way. "Don't sweat it, it's your first night, I think that your parent will claim you sooner or later, preferably sooner." She patted my shoulder, brushing my dark hair aside.

I suddenly convulsed, falling to the ground, Macy let out a loud squeak, drawing the attention of the entire bonfire. Now everybody was watching me quake on the ground, while Macy fell backwards, saying over and over that she didn't know what she did.

I shrieked as my spine arched backwards, and my arms violently scraped at the intense throbbing and wrenching near my shoulder blades. The other campers backed away even though I desperately needed somebody to help me, "Please, Please help me!" I yelped as I fell down the stone bleachers towards the fire pit, the flame flickering between nervousness and fright.

I managed to get on my hands and knees, barely stabilizing myself against the invisible forces that tore and hooked at my body, tears swelled in my eyes then streaked through the dirt covering my face.

Over the piteous sound of my cries, I heard someone, a deep voice. "Don't just stand there, help her!"

Some of the braver campers ventured forward, but when they neared, I felt something, some force that was attached to me, but I had no idea what it was, hit them, jettisoning them into the bleachers.

Then I heard a scream, not my own, crying something, I couldn't make it out. The force attached to me tried to draw itself closer to my back but a sudden weight knocked me down to the ground, crushing down on the force and my weak back. I vainly tried to pry it away, but a coarse rope met my trembling fingers. They put a net on me? I cried out in frustration, but it came out as a scratchy yelp.

Everybody that hadn't run off stood to the side, trying to make sense of what was happening to me. From under the net I pathetically tried to touch my back somehow, just to ease the pain, but the heavy net weighed down on me, draining what little strength I had left.

I cried out in relief as the sting abruptly ceased from my back and my muscles started to relax after what had seemed like hours. I reached towards the ending throb, but recoiled when my thin fingers swept over a slick surface, and returned glistening with blood.

"Are you okay?" A boy asked as he neared me, I knew that voice, Alex. As he started removing the net from over me, I could hear his voice shaking. "Sorry about that, but you almost broke our backs when we tried to get closer to you."

When the net was gone I sat, staring at the blood that caked my shirt and pooled around me, I extended the unknown force attached to my back, then recognized with horror that I was staring at a wing, the feathers coated with blood and dirt. "What's happening to me?"

* * *

**I am so sorry for such a short chapter. I truly am. But it seemed like a good place to start the next chapter off...**

**Sorry.**


	3. Shouting at the Oblivious Goddess

"I don't understand." I said for what seemed for the thousandth time as Alex once again carried me towards the big house wrapped like a giant hotdog in the Hephaestus banner, accompanied by the other camp director, and half white horse, Chiron.

"Nike, the goddess of strength, speed, and victory, divine charioteer of Zeus, is your godly parent." Chiron explained for probably the umpteenth time.

"How do you know that?" I said quite sceptically for someone who was bloody and had freaking _wings_.

Alex flicked something from the top of my head, causing it to fall onto my lap. A bloody laurel wreath, the tiny leaves crumpled from my (I guess you could say) growth spasms. "The wreath was one of Nike's symbols, awarded to men at the Olympics in Ancient Greece, and she is one of the only gods that still has her wings." Chiron said.

"Aren't the gods supposed to like their children? Like in the myths? Not, I don't know, try to kill them?" I said acidly as we re-entered the room in which I had awoken, and Alex laid me down carefully, still wrapped up in the banner, then handed me a new shirt and shorts off from a nearby chair.

"There are many instances that the gods have killed demigods, mostly out of spite," Chiron sighed.

I angrily sat up, the shell of the banner sliding off my shoulders. "How is giving me a twenty foot wingspan a favour? Sure it would be helpful sometimes, but the rest of the time they'd just be a burden, can't she just take the wings back?"

"I wouldn't bother considering it, try to ask her to take them back when she's in a bad mood, and you could be a pile of ashes within a few seconds." Alex said quietly. "The gods aren't fond of people who don't appreciate their gifts."

"I'll keep that in mind." I said, crossing my arms, my eyebrows fixed together, reflexively my wings shuffled, cracking the half dried blood. "I think I'll sleep now." I said, waving Alex and Chiron away.

Of course I didn't have any intentions of sleeping after what had happened, I most definitely wasn't tired anymore. So I waited till I could no longer he the sharp clacking of Chiron's hooves before I unwrapped myself from the banner and slid into my new clothes and jumped out the open window. Once I was on the porch, I breathed the night air in deeply, the oxygen in it zinged through me, waking and energizing some sixth sense that slept deep within me.

I kept myself in the shadows, slinking out of the way of the silvery gleam of the full moon. I was running off of my memory, trying to find the lake that I saw on my way to bonfire.

I was so busy looking for it I slipped on a wet rock on the shore, but my wings compensated, ripping right through my new shirt, stopping my fall right before I hit the rocks beneath me, and I hovered there, not even flapping. "_Magic wings."_ A second voice in my head said matter-of-the-fact-ly, sounding rather smug that it knew stuff I didn't. I moaned inwardly, why do I have to have the annoying second conscience?

I righted myself, and then greedily slid into the cool water. I waded waist deep, and then settled in to try to relax. I felt the blood dissolving from my wings, leaving them potentially cleaner. Soon enough feathers showed through the disappearing blood. Gleaming white, like a midday cloud, on the underside, and the tops looked like someone had cut pieces of the night sky out and inlaid them in the feathers; the white speckles on it even shimmered like the stars above me.

I gazed up into the real sky, the huge moon looked so lonely up in the field of black, but as I looked harder, more stars appeared, seemingly battling each other for space. "Mother, I know you're out there, so don't pretend you don't hear me." Am I really trying to talk to my mother? "So, just try to listen please. I don't know what you were thinking, giving me these wings. And I hope the reason is good, because I never asked for them." I sighed, exasperated. "Just a little help here..." I didn't know whether or not to be polite, so I added a hopeful "please?"

"_You're shouting at the wrong place, the moon is Artemis' domain." _A new voice sounded in my head. Great, now, on top of everything else, I was going nuts. _"I am your mother, Nike, the goddess of victory."_

"What are you doing in my head?" I asked, somewhat disturbed that someone else was in my head, but then again, with Nike, I really shouldn't be surprised anymore.

_"I am here to explain that the wings aren't a curse. Admittedly, they might give you some trouble at the start. "_

"And that means..?"

_"For now your body is just familiarizing with them, then after a week or two, you can control them fully, like a bird. Right now, they'll be rebellious, like a teething puppy."_

"Do teething puppy's rip your back open?" I asked skeptically, wincing at the memory of the bonfire.

Nike chuckled, _"I am truly sorry about that, I just needed to work out a few kinks between your human body and the wings."_

"Why did you give them to me in the first place? What are they? They seem to be made from the night sky."

_"I gave them to you so you may weather the events ahead of you, and they look like the night sky because they are. The goddess Athena herself wove them for me out of the night sky over the Northwest Territories in Canada_, _I always liked Canada. In fact, your father was Canadian."_

"If you don't mind being more precise, that would be lovely."

_"Yes, the wings. They were once mine, during the first Titan war, they were a gift, all the Twelve Olympian Gods put blessings on the feathers, and sadly most of the blessings have worn off, only five are left. Of course I only wore them for that occasion,"-_

"The wings?" I nudged.

She continued, not taking notice of me –_"you should have seen my wing fashion during the '80's," _Nike gave a mental shiver, "_No matter, these are yours now, enjoy!"_

"Speaking of which, don't you think that wings are more of a god thing?"

_"Good bye Nikki,"_ Nike whispered, I could feel her drawing away, leaving me alone in my mind with my irksome friend, the voice._ "Remember, I have and always will help you."_


	4. The Annoying Conscience Ruins My Night

I angrily smacked the dark water with the flats of my palms. "Are you even listening to me?! I don't want them! Take them back!" I shouted at the moon, my voice quivering as I started crying in frustration.

"I don't judge, but since you're crying in the middle of the lake and shouting at the moon, you look rather insane." A voice said behind me, making me jump. "But then again," the voice said as I turned, "You're probably having an identity crises with your godly parent, you probably don't remember me, I'm Macy."

"You're the girl from the bonfire. Sorry about that, I really didn't have a say on what was going on." I said, "But I'm surprised you actually came back, most people usually avoid me after first impressions."

"That must suck." She said, shrugging. "But around here people, in your case, mutant bird girl, usually get redeemed. Do something great, the bonfire will be forgotten."

A thought struck me, "Macy -just out of curiosity- why are _you _out here?"

"Everybody is." She grinned, pointing at the copse of rustling bushes that rimmed the lake like a scraggly beard. Between the leaves I could see pairs of eyes, and a great deal of whispering betrayed the occupants. "I was the only one 'brave' enough to come out to get you. The naiads tend to not like it when people stand around in the homes."

I cursed as a shadowy hand grasped my ankle; I kicked it off with much difficulty. "Go figure," I said dully.

"Come on, I'll get you to the showers."

I sighed gratefully as the water from the showerhead pattered against my head and arms, beating the blood off of them and further cleansing my wings, revealing an even more startling contrast of the black and white on my feathers.

I stared up at the ceiling, the marble slab dripped with condensation, the cold water mixing with the rivulets that loosened my knotted hair.

I turned off the tap, my nerves screamed in retaliation as cold air attacked me through my meagre, steamy defense that floated away from me. As I put on a new shirt, I snorted at the fact that I had gone through several shirts within my first day.

Macy was waiting for me as I exited the showers; her bushy red hair was now tied back from her face, exposing two ears that stuck out. "_Isn't she a real ginger."_ My voice speculated, not bothering to hide the laughter in its tone.

"_Ok, how did you even get in my head? I like independent thought." _I complained.

_ "I think you should be grateful, most would murder you to get to me.", I am one very agreeable being." _

"_Watch it. I'll be monitoring you more closely, so stow the sarcastic comments from now on, okay?"_

_ "It's my duty to be sarcastic. It's my natural defence against your stupidity; you have no idea the stress of sharing a head with a lesser mind like you. Think of it as – comic relief— sure, that."_

I momentarily pushed my voice from my head. "Hi," I said, stepping over to Macy.

She smiled tentatively, "Um, hi?"

"What?" I asked, "Is something wrong with my hair?" I asked, my hands instantly shooting to my wet hair.

Macy giggled, "No. But your facial expression looked kind of funny, like you were having a conversation with yourself."

I grinned sheepishly. "Actually, I was. I have this _really_ annoying conscience that seems to delight in mocking me. If it was physically possible, it would throttle its – just guessing here—skinny neck to Hades and back." I threw my hands up in frustration as Macy chortled. "What do I have to do to get a little respect around here?"

"The way you're going, you ain't goanna get anyone's respect," A voice said seriously from behind me. I whipped around, my face inches away from the one and only, Alex. That guy is everywhere. His face was anxious. "What are you doing?" He said apprehensively.

"Hey, calm down, I'm here." I said, "Like I would go far." I mumbled as an afterthought, "Bye." I said, to Macy, holding my hands out like a defeated prisoner towards Alex, who pushed them down.

"Come on." Alex whispered as he led me across the lawn back on the way to the Big House.

We were standing on the porch when Alex spoke again. "We were going to get you cleaned up in the morning." He said sheepishly as he lifted up the window sill for me.

"I know, I just needed some air." I replied as I slipped in, my wings tucked in tight against my back. They made a particular creaking sound awfully like rustling silk, as they slid around each other, tightening and loosening.

He slipped into the sick room after me, looking down at me as I settled back into the narrow bed. I grumbled, because I used to be back sleeper, and now I had to settle for my side or my stomach, and I wasn't too eager to try either.

"Do you need me to tuck you in?" Alex asked sarcastically as I slipped into the narrow bed.

I scowled at him as he ducked out of the window, "Seriously?"

He stuck his head back through the frame, "You know what? I know your problem, you're too serious." He chuckled as he left me alone.

I scowled, and then pulled my bag towards myself on the bed the bag still contained the five dollars and the red jacket, which I pulled out, pressing the soft fabric to my cheek. I sighed, stuffing the jacket back into the bag.


	5. The Towel Snatcher!

For the first time at Camp Half-Blood, I really, truly slept, and it wasn't very restful. I dreamed that I was in a dark room, lit only by a dimmed brazier. I couldn't see anyone, but I could sense that there were to other people here. A women's voice, but strong and dark, with a rich accent, came from the raised dais that was in the shadows. "What is it, you fool?"

A nasally voice came from below me, the owner, an ugly creature, a black bat the size of a man, with a single, curved horn on his nose. "They foiled our plan again, mistress."

"Our plan?!" the 'mistress' queried the revulsion in that phrase made the bat-thing cringe.

"You're plan," the sniveler corrected himself quickly, "was foiled by those children."

The 'mistress' growled, "Where are the days when humans had respect for the gods? We are becoming weak, if children can defeat our plans, aren't we, Oneiroi? Call your brothers; I have a very important task for you."

"Whatever you say, mistress, we shall do." The beast crouched down into an awkward bow.

"Capture the goddess Eos, and see how the puny humans cope without her." The voice in the darkness rumbled.

"Yes mistress." The Oneiroi groveled, flying off as my dream faded.

* * *

I sat up, rubbing my eyes, hoping to clear the strange dream from my head. I shuffled, half asleep towards the basin that sat in the corner of the sickroom, immersing my face in the cold water.

"Good to see that you're awake, finally," Alex said from the door, "You're going to miss breakfast at the pace you're going."

"Stalker," I said offhandedly, not even facing him while I dried my face with a white towel.

"No, you missed me," Alex smirked, snatching the towel away from me, walking backwards out the door into the hallway, beckoning with a crooked finger with one hand, holding the wet towel in the other, "If you ever want to see this towel alive again, you'll come with me to breakfast." He said with an impish grin.

"You are the strangest person I have ever met." I smiled back, following him down the hallway to the front door.

"Wait till you meet your siblings," he said in a creepy voice; he laughed manically like a cheesy villain as he slipped out of the room.

* * *

**I can honestly say this is the most ridiculously short chapter I have ever written. **


	6. Brownie Points

The dining pavilion was pretty awesome, with people eating food that just –popped- into existence onto their plates.

The pavilion was roofless, and was ringed with bronze braziers filled with glowing coals. It was crowded, kids were everywhere. A few kids dressed in cameo jackets were sitting on their table, spitting spit wads into the hair of the kids who were passed out in their plates of eggs and bacon.

Alex steered me to a table that was rather out of the way, near the edge, so the sun warmed the marble surface of the table and framed the heads of my siblings, all dark haired, pale skin, and intense ice blue eyes, like me, but there was only one girl who had coffee brown skin, but she shared the characteristics of the rest of us.

"See you later." Alex said, leaving me with them.

They all shuffled over on the bench for me to sit on the edge. The introduction was fairly short, since there were only ten of us, including me, and I could memorize everybody's name right away.

Daren the Head Councillor, Marcia, Valkyrie, Austin, Aai Lin, and Hayden were senior campers, around my age. Along with them were some younger kids, Cassie and Moe. But the youngest was a little girl, Tina, who wasn't any older than six.

We all the same thing in common, all of our dads were famous sports personalities, like Marcia, the dark-skinned girl, her dad is Usain Bolt, and Cassie's dad was a player for the Seattle Seahawks.

When they were finished shoveling their dinners into their mouths, they edged off the bench to scrape the perfect tidbits that they had left on their plates into braziers.

Maybe it's just that I'm Canadian, but I didn't know Americans were this weird, throwing perfectly good food into the flames.

"_What a waste."_ My voice said snidely.

"_Shut up you"._ I retorted, -even if I did agree with it, I couldn't let it know- careful not to let my conversation with my hitchhiker show on my face.

Tina tugged on my shirt, pointing at the brazier, "It's an offering to the gods," She said, smiling, then pointed past the cabins to an arena that looked awfully like a boxing square, "Come on, we have a lesson!"

There was a guy waiting for us at the arena, an adult, but still young, even though his camp necklace was loaded with beads, he had dark, messy hair and mischievous sea green eyes. He gave me the impression that he probably had different, and much more dangerous, ideas of fun than me.

"Percy Jackson, swords instructor," He said, turning my attempted hand shake into a fist bump, "You must be the newbie," he said with a devilish grin, "Come with me please," he said, motioning to me towards a beat-up shed, like he was luring me to my death, "The rest of you can start with regular warm-ups!" he shouted over my head at the rest of my cabin, who all nodded vigorously, without supervision, they would get any payback time for past pranks.

As we hiked to the shed, Percy spoke, "I heard about your incident last night, you alright?"

I was off guard for his concern, "Yah, um, yah, sure," I replied, rubbing my arms against the sudden cold of the shed, which was packed with weapons, towering up to the ceiling "wow." I breathed in awe.

But Percy rifled through the racks of swords and spears and daggers. He held up a wickedly sharp spear and handed it to me, just as quickly, he snatched it away, "Nope." He picked up two long daggers with curved blade guards, similar to what the Shaolin monks used to use, and pushed them in my hands, I weighed them in my fingers, but I handed them back, they just didn't feel right. "Don't worry," Percy said with his devilish grin, "we got tons and tons of weapons for you to try out."

Then a dark glint caught my eye from the corner, "What's that?" I asked, climbing over the racks to get a better look.

"Sure, of course you can climb on those priceless weapons, go ahead." Percy said sarcastically, grinning.

I looked back over my shoulder, as I retrieved the source of the glint, "Thanks," I replied, reflecting his sarcasm as I clambered back down the racks with the source of the glint, a long, dark blade with flaring and then contracting edges, giving it the appearance of black waves, attached to a curved guard and leather-bound hilt, ending with a pommel inlaid with a white stone the size of an egg, it's twin in my other hand, but the blade was white with a black stone pommel.

"Ah," Percy said, taking the swords in his hands, balancing it on his fingers, "two feet each, Adamant metal. The white blade with the black pommel is Sower, and the black with the white is Reaper, these are very special swords, made from Kronos' scythe after the second Titan War, it was melted down and made into these, but unlike the scythe, it won't sever your soul from your body." He rubbed his shoulder, like a scar remained there.

I gripped the leather hilts in my slim fingers as Percy led me out the door into the sunlight and back to the group of kids practicing with their swords.

In the corner of the practice area, Percy showed me a couple of moves with his own sword, a celestial bronze blade called Riptide. But when it got to actual fighting, my wings kept getting in the way since they were too sore to fold properly against my back, and I was tripping on them, so Percy kept hitting me with the flat of his blade when I was too slow, which was always.

_WHUMP_. Percy hit my arm. _THWAP_. Percy hit my thigh. Eventually I got so fed up with this, I didn't want to stick to the forms, and I let all the frustration from the past two days flow through my blades.

I feinted at his head, but rapped his knees with the flat of Reaper's blade, then flowed into a spinning kick and knocked his feet out from under from him with Sower. Before you could count to three, I had Percy flat on his back with my blades' tips resting lightly on his Adam's apple, my wings spasmed unexpectedly and burst into the sky. _Show off._ Voice said snidely. I didn't even try to retort, I was too surprised, and mildly embarrassed.

Everybody had stopped practicing, shocked that I had taken down the swords instructor in my first session, their jaws hung open comically, their eyes darting between me and the fallen man. But Percy just laughed. And laughed. He laughed till he was shaking and his eyes teared up.

Seriously?

"Ah, finally, no one else seems to think it's safe to hurt the instructor," he smirked as I helped him up, "I like you already, kid."

I smiled sheepishly, "any time you want to be knocked flat on your back, just let me know," then I turned to my gawking siblings, "and if you would please re-hinge your jaws, that only works in bad cartoons and comic books," I said, grinning, shoving the swords through my belt loops.

"Oh wow." Percy breathed.

"What?" I followed his eyes to my arms, which were striped with thin, but deep cuts. But they were rapidly healing, and within seconds, they disappeared. I inspected my primary feathers, they looked soft, but when I reached out, barely touching the vanes they passed through my finger like a hot knife through butter. I gasped in pain, but the sensation was gone as my wound knit itself back together before my eyes.

I looked up at Percy, who was just as much shock, "Who knew? Razor wings!" I said brightly.

Percy grinned, "Now you don't even need the sword, you're a ninja with wings."


End file.
